


Have A Little Faith In Me

by FallingLikeThis



Series: Have A Little Faith [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Boys Kissing, First Time, Forced coming out, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Grinding, Guilt, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, High School, Homophobia, Homosexuality, I like to think it ends with hope, Internalized Homophobia, It's kind of a mess, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Punk Louis, Religion Kink, Rimming, Secret Relationship, Self-Acceptance, Sexual Experimentation, That's it, brief implied mention of past Louis/Zayn, happy ending for the relationship, if I did it right, it's open ended about other things, sort of, the open ending has nothing to do with h/l's relationship, what's the word I'm looking for?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:17:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4190082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Harry Styles remembers Louis Tomlinson fondly. They used to spend the summers bonding at Bible Camp, helping each other memorize bible verses for their weekly challenge against the boys in the other cabins, and chatting into the early hours of morning when they were supposed to be sleeping. They had been so close back then. Harry was heartbroken when Louis hadn’t been there last summer. He’d heard rumors, vague comments about how Louis had changed but he didn’t believe them. He couldn’t. Because the other boys, the ones from Louis’ home town, were saying that he’d started getting piercings and tattoos, that he’d come out as gay, and that he’d turned his back on God.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Harry had thought he’d never find it in himself to believe them but the image before his eyes has him suddenly questioning everything.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taayjaay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taayjaay/gifts).



> I hope I did the prompt justice.
> 
> Please pay very careful attention to the tags. I think I hit them all but I am bad at warning for triggers (If this scares you, then please skip this fic. Your health is more important than my hit count), so please let me know if I have left anything out.

~ **H** ~

Harry remembers Louis Tomlinson fondly. They used to spend the summers bonding at Bible Camp, helping each other memorize bible verses for their weekly challenge against the boys in the other cabins, and chatting into the early hours of morning when they were supposed to be sleeping. They had been so close back then. Harry was heartbroken when Louis hadn’t been there last summer. He’d heard rumors, vague comments about how Louis had changed but he didn’t believe them. He couldn’t. Because the other boys, the ones from Louis’ home town, were saying that he’d started getting piercings and tattoos (Louis didn’t even like tattoos), that he’d come out as gay, and that he’d turned his back on God.

Harry had thought he’d never find it in himself to believe them but the image before his eyes has him suddenly questioning everything. Because apparently, Louis’ family has moved and Louis has transferred to Harry’s school. Because a very different Louis than Harry’s used to is standing next to Niall Horan and Zayn Malik, the only two officially out as bisexual at Harry’s straight-edge school (and constantly taking shit for it), smoking up a storm against the brick wall behind the school where Harry parks his bike every morning. Because instead of smiling or waving when he sees Harry standing there, Louis looks him over in a very suggestive manner before smirking and commenting something to Niall that has him looking Harry over as well.

Feeling unsettled, Harry locks up his bike and rushes past, eager to be free of the weight of their stares on his back.

He feels a bit guilty later. Louis is new here and Harry is a good Christian; he should have at least managed a “hello”, maybe made sure that Louis knew his way around. Even if he is gay, Harry’s vicar is always saying “hate the sin, not the sinner”, so Harry isn’t going to shun Louis like the rest of his class probably will. Harry remembers what it was like when Niall and Zayn came out. It was a good thing they had each other.

It occurs to him then, that maybe he can even help Louis. They did used to be friends. Maybe if Harry reaches out to him, Louis will let Harry help him get back on the right path.

Harry watches the clock, counting down the minutes until the end of class, eager to find Louis and see if he’s willing to listen. Harry remembers the good times they used to have together and he wouldn’t at all mind getting his friend back.

The bell finally rings and Harry bolts for the door. He’s not sure if he knows exactly where to look, but he thinks he has an idea.

It turns out to be a good one when Harry finds Louis, Niall, and Zayn back at the wall behind the school. Louis and Zayn are both smoking but Niall just appears to be keeping them company, laughing constantly at Louis’ rundown of his day.

Harry clears his throat loudly, obviously, trying to get Louis’ attention. They all look over at Harry but it’s just a quick, disdainful glance before Louis launches back into his story.

Harry’s cheeks burn at the obvious dismissal and he seriously considers just getting on his bike and going home, giving up on this whole insane plan. He takes a deep, cleansing breath and pushes away all thoughts of quitting.

“Um, hi, Louis,” Harry says, interrupting the other boy. If Louis won’t give him an opening, he’ll just have to make one himself.

Louis huffs to a stop and turns to Harry with a raised brow. He doesn’t return Harry’s greeting, just glares expectantly.

“Uh, can I talk to you?” Harry asks, fighting his unease with each word.

“You already are.” Louis answers, voice full of snark as he leans back against the wall, Niall and Zayn on either side, like Louis’ bodyguards. Maybe they are.

“I mean, um, privately.” Harry states, glancing at Niall and Zayn as he says it. His hopes of this going well are deflating by the second.

“How privately?” Louis returns, suggestion coloring his tone as he smirks at Harry.

Harry doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t want to offend Louis, especially not in front of his friends, so he says nothing and stares at his shoes, about half a second from just dropping this whole thing and going home.

Louis sighs, taking pity on him.

“Come on,” he says, pulling gently at Harry’s shirt sleeve and leading the way to the empty football pitch.

Louis takes a seat on the stands when he seems to think they are far enough away from prying ears and waits for Harry to join him.

Harry sits right next to Louis but then thinks better of it and slides over a bit to put some distance between them.

Louis scoffs at the move.

“Don’t worry. I don’t think the gay is contagious,” he snipes bitterly.

“That’s sort of what I wanted to talk about.” Harry jumps right in, sure that if he doesn’t get it out now, Louis will never let him. Of course, then he proceeds to follow it up with… nothing. He maybe didn’t really think this through very well.

“What about it?” Louis asks, arching an eyebrow again, and Harry can already tell that Louis is so done with this conversation.

“Why would you choose this?” Harry blurts out. At least he’s finally said something. He realizes quite quickly that it was the wrong something when he sees Louis’ face shut down even more.

“Oh, god, you’re one of _them_. I thought better of you, Curly,” Louis says, rubbing his hands down his face in a show of exasperation.

The casual use of Louis’ old nickname for him irritates Harry. Because it’s sitting alongside a lie. Harry finds himself the one scoffing this time.

“No, you didn’t.”

“What?” Louis turns to him, apparently surprised by the sudden outburst.

“If you’d thought better of me, you wouldn’t have treated me like you have. You would have given me a chance.”

“A chance for what, Harold?” Louis asks severely.

“A chance to accept you. To be your friend still. I don’t know. Just a chance.”

“Is that what this is? You giving me a chance?” Louis counters, disdainfully. “Because I’m pretty sure that asking me why I chose to be gay isn’t acceptance on your part.”

Harry sighs and gives himself a second to cool off, confident that Louis is too stubborn to walk away at this point. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight. I still want to be your friend, Louis. I want to help you.”

“Help me,” Louis repeats and Harry can tell that he’s trying to reign in his temper. “Help me not be gay?”

“Help you see that it’s wrong,” Harry answers, fighting the urge to reach out to Louis, to soften his rough words with a soothing touch. He doesn’t want any of his actions to be misunderstood.

 

~ **L** ~

 

Louis closes his eyes, resigned to the fact that his former friend seems to think he’s a project. He rests his head in his hands, trying to think of a nice way to tell Harry to fuck off when a thought occurs to him. He raises his eyes to meet Harry’s and can tell that the other boy is surprised to find him smiling.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Louis offers, leaning in a little closer than he knows Harry will be comfortable with. “I’ll let you rattle off your bible verses at me and try to convince me that you’re right.”

Harry lights up when he hears Louis accept his proposal but it’s quickly shut down when Louis throws a smirk at him and finishes his thought.

“ _If_ you let me show you around my world and try to convince you that there’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

Harry is obviously taken by surprise, wide eyes staring at Louis while he bites his lip in thought.

Louis can tell when Harry comes to a decision because he looks away and swallows hard before bringing his eyes back to Louis and holding out a shaky hand. “Deal.”

Louis takes Harry’s hand, mischievous grin firmly in place, and they shake on it.

Louis’ going to have so much fun with this.


	2. Chapter 2

~ **H** ~

 

Harry has everything in order for the first session with Louis. That’s what he’s calling them, sessions. He needs to be clinical about this or else he’ll let the underlying affection he still has for Louis get to him. He’ll end up putting everything aside at the first hint of Louis’ discomfort and just doing whatever Louis wants instead, striving to make the other boy happy, no matter what it takes. Like he used to.

Harry can’t afford to be sentimental today. He’s told his parents what’s going on, how he’s trying to help Louis find his way again. They were very supportive, praising him for trying to help Louis instead of just ignoring him. If you aren’t part of the solution, you’re part of the problem, and all that. So, Harry is serious about this.

Of course, so is Louis. For every point Harry makes, Louis has a counter attack. He’s even brought up things that Harry hasn’t considered before. Things like how the Bible has so many translations, by this point it’s a translation of a translation. And sometimes, there aren’t words for certain things, perhaps something got lost or translated poorly. Or how, along the way, maybe someone just added in their own beliefs. It was written by man, after all, and man is an imperfect creature.

Harry doesn’t really believe any of it, but the fact that the argument has never occurred to him before, that he’s just accepted everything without question, makes him pause. Blind devotion isn’t always a good thing. But well, this is God they’re talking about, so Harry figures his devotion is well placed.

When Harry’s last argument is shot down unceremoniously, he lets his head fall into his hands, elbows pressed into the table and frustration practically rolling off his shoulders. He wouldn’t let it get to him so much, but the thing is, Louis’ points make sense. They aren’t things that Harry can just brush aside as meaningless drivel said for the sake of argument.

“What else you got?” Louis asks, looking rather smug for someone clutching a cup of tea with the phrase ‘Hunny Bunny emblazoned across the front as he sits in Harry’s kitchen.

Harry looks up tiredly from the cradle of his hands. “Nothing. That’s it for today, I’m afraid.”

He’ll have to do a lot more research if he wants to convince Louis that being gay is a bad thing, one that he should turn from. He’s still going through what else he can do for their next session when he feels a tentative hand circle one wrist.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Louis says, eyes sincere when Harry works up the strength to look into them.

Harry scoffs but says nothing.

“No really,” Louis adds, squeezing Harry’s wrist in encouragement now that he knows that Harry’s not going to reject his touch. “You’ve obviously done a lot of thinking about this. You’re not doing this by halves.”

A drained “yeah, well,” and a half-hearted shrug is all the reply Harry can manage, still feeling disappointed in himself.

“Hey,” Louis speaks quietly, staring into his tea as he rubs his thumb soothingly over Harry’s pulse. “It’s nice, you know. Knowing that someone cares about the wellbeing of my soul. Not many people do anymore. It means a lot, Curly.”

Harry is stunned, to say the least. Here he is, rejecting a part of this boy that he maintains can’t be changed, and Louis is thanking him for it. Even comforting him for thinking he’s doing it poorly. Suddenly, Harry isn’t so sure that Louis’ soul is the one he should be worried about. His own is feeling rather ashamed of itself right now.

“I really do care, Lou,” Harry tells the other boy, turning his wrist so that he can wrap his fingers around Louis’ as well. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t.”

Louis looks back with soft eyes. “I know, Harry.”

They used to be unstoppable together when they were at Bible Camp. Inseparable, too, until that last day of camp when they had to say goodbye and spend the rest of the year waiting for _next_ summer to start. Harry had always hated the last day of camp. Louis used to say that it was them against the world, and they were winning.  Harry hates that in this, something decidedly personal and important, they are divided. It’s not them against the world anymore. It’s them against each other. Harry doesn’t look forward to the victory if they aren’t winning together. So, he takes comfort in this one marvellous moment where they seem to have come to a truce, however briefly.

 

~ **L** ~

 

Louis has sat through three “sessions” with Harry when he decides that it’s his turn to educate Harry on a few things. They’re at Louis’ house this time. Fortunately, Louis’ parents and siblings are out for the evening or they wouldn’t have gotten anything done.

Harry is putting his things away and preparing to head home, looking dejected once again because he’s made no headway with Louis.

“Hey, Curly,” Louis calls to get his attention. “Why don’t we go out for a little while? Have a bit of fun.”

“Um, where do you want to go?” Harry asks, uncertain but also obviously pleased at the prospect of actually just hanging out with Louis for a while.

“Somewhere you’ll have to dress a bit better than that,” Louis answers, taking in Harry’s white polo shirt and loose khakis with an expression of disapproval.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Harry asks, sounding mildly offended as he looks down at himself.

“Nothing, Curly. If you’re going to visit your _Nan_. But you can’t wear that where we’re going,” Louis assures the boy as he ushers Harry up to his room. He spends a few minutes studying the contents of his closet before pulling out his nicest pair of black skinnies and a Rolling Stones shirt that he hasn’t worn in ages. “Put those on.”

 

~ **H** ~

 

Harry just stares at the clothes that Louis has deposited in his hands.

“Well?” Louis’ voice breaks into Harry’s thoughts and gets the boy moving again, ducking into the bathroom to change.

Harry knows that he should ask questions. Where are they going? Why does he have to change his clothes for it? Should he call his mom and tell her he’ll be home late? But he’s too busy trying to make Louis happy to care much for what he _should_ do. In this moment, he feels like he has his friend back and he’s thrilled. Somehow, it’s just too easy to fall into old patterns and Harry doesn’t want to question it.

He struggles into the jeans Louis gave him but the shirt goes on easily enough. It’s tight, clinging to him. Actually, all of it is tight and Harry’s not so sure that he’ll be comfortable enough to do whatever Louis has in mind when he’s not sure he can _walk_ in these clothes. He opens the door to Louis’ room, about to say as much but stops himself, frozen in the doorway.

Louis is standing in front of his closet, fastening the jeans he’s apparently just changed into. He’s shirtless and Harry’s eyes seem frozen on the bare, delicate flesh of Louis’ back as he reaches into his closet to pull out two shirts. He looks at each, contemplating which to choose before turning a bit and finding Harry in the doorway.

At first, Harry thinks he’s planning to say something, maybe ask Harry’s opinion on which shirt to wear but then his eyes travel over Harry’s frame. Eyebrow quirking up as his gaze travels down.

They stand there awkwardly for a minute or two, just staring. Harry at Louis’ defined chest, Louis at Harry’s everything.

Louis breaks the silence first. “Looking good, Curly.”

And it’s a bit ridiculous how good the compliment makes Harry feel, good enough for him to forget how uncomfortable he is.

“Um, you should wear the blue one,” Harry offers, pointing at the shirt in Louis’ left hand.

Louis looks down at it before turning back to Harry. “Yeah?”

Harry just nods. He doesn’t think he could get any more words out if he tried.

“Alright,” Louis agrees, hanging the other shirt back in his closet and putting on the one Harry suggested. “Thanks, H.”

And then, Louis’ arm is over Harry’s shoulder and they’re heading to get their shoes and making their exit.

 

~ **L** ~

 

Once they’re outside the club, Louis feels Harry freeze up next to him.

“Louis is this…” Harry can’t seem to finish his thought as his cheeks pink at the mere idea.

“It’s a gay club,” Louis states bluntly, but rubs Harry’s back in a soothing gesture. “I bet you didn’t even know this place existed.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, doesn’t agree with Louis about his ignorance of the place nor does he stare openly at the flood of young men in rather daring garb lined up outside. No, Harry does none of these things because, Louis notices, he’s become rather involved with studying his shoes. Louis doesn’t know how to interpret that, or if he should even try. He thinks maybe he shouldn’t try but it doesn’t stop his brain from attempting to spiral into madness and figure it all out without his permission. He shakes himself, ignores what he wants to do, and tucks those thoughts away somewhere safe for the time being.

“Anyway,” Louis says, pulling them both back to the situation at hand. “You promised to let me show you life on my side of the fence. So, here we are at the somewhat aptly titled _Fluid_. Zayn showed me this place in my first week here.”

Louis drags Harry to the front of the line, bypassing the angry masses still waiting to get in, until Louis greets a great, burly man that’s stationed next to the entrance.

“Louis! Back again, I see.” The man greets him with a friendly smile.

“Alberto,” Louis returns with a smile and respectful nod. “Can we go in?”

Alberto looks apologetic. “Sorry, boys. We’re at capacity right now. You’ll have to wait for some people to leave.”

“Sure, sure.” Louis agrees easily enough.

Beside him, Harry hasn’t spoken a word, still looking at the ground instead of his surroundings. Louis had expected him to be a bit more curious. He’s a little worried that Harry will call the whole thing off and just leave. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable to be here though. He’s not tense, just _off_ somehow.

A group of loud, drunken twenty-somethings squeeze past on their way out and Alberto marks Harry’s hand without asking for ID, Harry’s baby-face giving away that he’s underage far too easily, and finally waves them in. Louis tugs Harry along behind him, being sure to remain close every step of the way. Because he’s pretty sure that, for Harry, this is going to be like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

A whole new world awaits.


	3. Chapter 3

~ **H** ~

 

Harry can feel the music crash into him from every direction the minute they enter _Fluid_. It washes over him and floods through him and he lets himself pretend for a moment that it’s the music, loud and vibrant and everywhere, that’s overwhelming him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but Louis, unaware of Harry’s inner turmoil, is still tugging him along and Harry has to open his eyes before he’s ready to keep himself from tripping.

Once Harry starts looking around, he can’t seem to stop. Louis wasn’t entirely correct before, Harry _did_ know that this place existed, he’s just never been inside it. Because there was a time when Harry was questioning himself, when he had almost considered letting himself go down this path but chose not to. That’s why Harry is pushing so hard for Louis to change his mind, because Harry is living proof that being gay is a choice. He felt the pull and chose to ignore it. It’s a little difficult to ignore all of the people who gave in though as Harry trails behind Louis to the bar. There are same-sex couples kissing in every corner of the club, grinding on each other on the dancefloor, doing body shots off of each other.

Louis seems to notice that Harry’s eyes can’t stay still, roaming the club in a never-ending loop, the dancefloor, the bar, the crowd-lined walls. He leans in and speaks into Harry’s ear, “welcome to my world”. It shouldn’t cause a shiver to ripple down Harry’s spine but it does.

“Want something to drink or are you ready to dance?” Louis asks, holding tightly to Harry’s wrist. Whether it’s possessive or protective, Harry doesn’t know, but he’ll take it. Louis is his anchor right now, keeping everything from becoming too much, too fast.

Harry’s eyes sweep over the dancefloor full of bodies, crushed together by choice rather than necessity, lust permeating the area, and knows that he isn’t ready to go out there. Not just yet.

“Drink, please,” Harry answers and Louis seems to understand that he’s stalling but doesn’t comment on it.

Louis gets him a soda. Harry expects Louis to get a pint or something since he’s old enough but he just gets himself a soda, too. Harry would never say it but he’s a little relieved. He doesn’t know how Louis would behave when he’s drunk and he’s not certain he could handle that as well as everything else that’s going on. Maybe Louis knows that.

His drink is gone far too quickly and Harry expects Louis to try dragging him out to the dance floor but he doesn’t. He asks Harry if he wants another, letting him draw it out a bit longer, go at his own pace. Harry almost says yes, stays put for another few minutes but shakes his head instead. If he’s going to do this, waiting around is just going to sap his resolve rather than strengthen it.

The smile Louis gives him seems almost proud, like he knows Harry is struggling but he’s determined not to back out. Harry gives a tentative smile back, though he’s sure his nerves are clearly evident in the tremble of his lips. Louis squeezes his wrist and, for some reason, that settles him a bit.

A deep breath and several steps later and they are out on the dancefloor. Louis pulls Harry to a corner that’s relatively free of couples and doesn’t move to invade Harry’s space. He’s being surprisingly delicate with Harry and Harry’s grateful. He doesn’t know how to say it though so he smiles instead and tries to loosen his limbs as he dances.

 

~ **L** ~

 

Louis thinks Harry is adorable, flailing his limbs all over the place as he dances. It could be an attempt to keep anyone from getting too close, but Louis thinks that’s probably just the way Harry dances. They start off simply, dancing with plenty of space between them, giving each other encouraging smiles. But somewhere between the tenth and fifteenth dance, the crowd started filling out around them, forcing them closer together. Louis wouldn’t mind getting even closer but Harry’s just started looking like he’s having fun and Louis doesn’t want to risk ruining that.

When he feels hands circle his waist from behind, Louis doesn’t stop them. He turns to see who his new dance partner is and likes what he sees, so he goes with it, grinding back against the boy behind him.

Louis glances back to check on Harry and finds his eyes closed as he loses himself in the music. Content that his friend is having a good time, Louis lets himself have this. He loves feeling like this, _desired_. He leans back against his dance partner, head turned to the side in an offering. His dance partner doesn’t let him down, latching onto the bared line of his throat with soft, wet lips. Louis’ eyes close in want and he raises an arm up to pull his boy closer.

When his eyes open again, he finds Harry in front of him, no longer dancing but definitely watching, gaze dark. Louis keeps staring right back as he grinds harder into the boy behind him before turning his head to meet the boy’s lips with his own. His eyes never leaving Harry as they kiss. It’s a challenge. He doesn’t even know what he’s challenging Harry to do but he can see the second that Harry accepts.

Harry’s hands are formed into white-knuckled fists and Louis half-expects Harry to start swinging. But then, Harry surprises him. The younger boy reaches over and pulls Louis away from his dance partner, dragging Louis into his space and throwing his arms around Louis’ neck. He completely ignores Louis’ former dance partner and starts dancing again, slower, _dirtier_.

Soon enough, Louis forgets the other boy too. Harry may look innocent under normal circumstances but he’s downright sensual now, biting his bottom lip as he presses himself into Louis’ body. It feels so good and Louis finds himself pressing back with no hesitation. They dance, losing themselves in the thumping rhythm of the bass. Of course, it’s only a matter of time until Louis can feel the press of Harry’s erection rubbing against him. Harry seems to realize it a few seconds later and stops moving abruptly, eyes wide with horror.

Louis leans forward to yell something in his ear, tell him that it’s no big deal. Something, _anything_ , to make that look go away. But Harry doesn’t stick around to hear it.

 

~ **H** ~

 

Harry runs to the bathroom and freaks the fuck out.

 

~ **L** ~

 

When Louis finds Harry, curled in on himself and close to hyperventilating in the bathroom, the boy doesn’t seem to notice him for a few minutes.

“Harry?” Louis asks, kneeling in front of him and reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

The touch seems to pull Harry out of his stupor but a second later he’s flinching away from Louis entirely.

“What did you do to me?” Harry hurls the accusation with a venom that Louis didn’t think him capable of.

“ _Do_ to you?” Louis reels back from him, anger replacing his concern for the younger boy. “Harry, _I_ didn’t do anything. If you rub your dick against something, it’s gonna get hard. It’s biology. I didn’t _make you_ rub it against me.”

Harry’s eyes widen at Louis’ words, like he’s had some kind of epiphany that he’d really rather he hadn’t. And then he’s standing suddenly, nearly knocking Louis over in his haste. He hesitates.

“I’m sor—” He looks apologetic and Louis thinks maybe it’ll be okay but then a sob breaks through Harry’s words and he looks so embarrassed. “I have to go.”

Harry runs out the door and leaves Louis behind feeling utterly lost about what just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

~ **H** ~

 

Harry can’t face Louis. He purposefully avoids the areas he knows Louis will be at school. Once or twice, he thinks he sees Louis walking towards him but he expertly dodges the boy each time. Because, the thing is, Harry’s come to realize that none of what happened at the club was Louis’ fault. It was all Harry. _He_ was the one that pulled Louis away from the other boy. _He_ was the one who’d been jealous of someone else having Louis’ attention. _He_ was the one who started dancing the way he had, pushing himself into Louis’ space. _He_ was the one who fucking liked it when Louis pushed back.

Shit. He’d _liked_ it. He almost hyperventilates every time he remembers that one little detail.

Harry tries to tell himself that it was just a slip, that he didn’t actually give in to any of his less than honorable desires. It’s not like he kissed Louis or anything.

The problem is, the more he thinks about it, the more certain Harry is that, if he hadn’t pulled back when he did, he _would’ve_. He totally would’ve kissed Louis. He _wanted_ to kiss Louis.

Harry spends the next few days evading Louis at school and working himself to the bone at home with schoolwork and his chores. Doing everything he can to force those thoughts back into the box he’d once had them neatly packed in. They just don’t want to go back in so easily this time. And Harry is certain that he knows what the difference is. Proximity. Where before he had Louis around for such a short time, now, Harry can’t seem to escape him. Because, let’s be honest, Louis is the one who brought these thoughts about in the first place. That’s why Harry’s always been so eager to please the other boy, why he still is. Because Harry has a crush on Louis freaking Tomlinson and probably has since the first day they met at Bible Camp.

Harry wishes that he could go back to being blissfully unaware of these feelings. He wishes that he didn’t have to fight so hard to be everything he’s supposed to be and reject the things he’s not. It never felt like such a struggle until now.

Despite staying away from Louis, Harry can’t keep himself from thinking about the other boy. He’s never been anything but lovely to Harry and on top of the remorse he feels for not accepting him the way he is, Harry feels even more guilt for this. Not for pushing Louis away, that’s simply what’s best for both of them. It’s the _thoughts_ that Harry finds himself having, some half-baked fantasies that Harry cuts off as soon as he realizes what he’s doing. It doesn’t bode well that it happens so frequently.

And it certainly doesn’t help when Louis shows up at Harry’s door after a week of Harry avoiding him and, in spite of his tattoos and piercings, charms his way past Harry’s parents and into the one refuge Harry has away from the boy.

 

~ **L** ~

 

“Louis?” Harry seems shocked when he opens his bedroom door to find Louis standing there. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see how you were,” Louis answers gently. He’s afraid of doing anything too harshly lest he scare Harry away again. “And to apologize. I shouldn’t have taken you to the club. It was too much, too soon.”

Harry’s eyes widen, seeming panicked when Louis mentions the club and he pokes his head out the door to his room to look both ways, as though he’s afraid of someone eavesdropping, before pulling Louis into the room and closing the door behind him.

“My parents don’t know about the club,” Harry explains quietly, looking unsure of himself even as he stalks past Louis and slumps down to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Oh, sorry,” Louis mutters, wincing internally. _Of course_ Harry wouldn’t tell them. They probably wouldn’t be too keen on their good, little Christian boy going to hang out with a bunch of gays.

So, maybe Louis is feeling a little bitter. It’s been a hard week.

“Look, Louis,” Harry starts and Louis’ eyes snap to Harry’s. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I said I would let you show me what it’s like… being like you are. And when you did, I reacted poorly. It was my fault, I thought I could handle it and I was wrong.”

“Harry, no,” Louis argues, sitting next to Harry on the bed but making sure not to get too close. “I expected too much of you. I threw you into the lion’s den.”

“You can’t fool me, Lou,” Harry says with a tiny smile. “You let me stall when you knew I needed time. You were so careful with me.”

“Well.” Louis admits to nothing. “But then I got carried away and sort of shoved it all in your face with that guy I was dancing with.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, but Louis can see how pink his cheeks get at the reminder of Louis kissing a boy in front of him. Louis wonders if it’s a blush of embarrassment or anger, maybe jealousy. But then he pushes that thought away. Even if it isn’t just wishful thinking, he couldn’t act on Harry’s maybe feelings. Considering how severely as he’d reacted to just _dancing_ , Louis can’t imagine how Harry would feel if Louis actually did something with intent. Like kiss him.

“Maybe we could start over,” Louis suggests, “at a more reasonable pace?”

Harry looks at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is there anything you want to ask? I could answer any questions you might have. I could _tell_ you about what it’s like instead of showing you. I mean, would that be better?” Louis asks, calm on the surface but beneath his skin buzzes a weird sort of desperation. He always thought it was an inevitability that he’d lose Harry. Now, that he’s got an inkling that there might be a chance of keeping the boy close, he’s not going to give him up so easily.

“That sounds reasonable.” Harry answers, shifting a bit closer when he turns to face Louis directly. Louis is not going to read into that. “But first, will you do something for me?”

“Depends what it is,” Louis says instead of the ‘ _anything’_ that wants to jump from the tip of his tongue.

“Will you pray with me?” Harry asks, adorable earnestness shining from the dimples in his cheeks.

“Um, I mean, I guess?” _Curse_ Louis’ inability to say no to this boy.

Harry rewards him with a bright smile and pulls Louis down to kneel next to the bed on his knees.

And they pray.

Well, _Harry_ prays. Louis sits there on his knees with his eyes closed and tries to ignore the warmth of Harry next to him. And just how much that warmth means to him.

 

~ **H** ~

 

Harry fears that he’s made a mistake not keeping Louis at arm’s length. He was just thinking that he needed to stay away from the other boy, to stay strong and firm in his beliefs, in himself, when said boy shows up and shatters all the walls Harry’s been trying to build between them.

So, he prays.

 It’s a different experience with Louis at his side. Harry prays for strength, prays that he can have the willpower to do the right thing, the _Christian_ thing, but at the same time it’s like he’s finally able to say _you see what you’ve put me up against? how am I supposed to do this?_ and give a physical example of what he’s facing. Harry’s supposed to be helping Louis fight _his_ demons, not unleashing his own.

“God, _please_ , help me,” he whispers before his Amen and when he opens his eyes and turns to see Louis next to him, eyes still closed, lips moving silently, he thinks that maybe this time God is _really_ listening.

 

~ **L** ~

 

Okay. So maybe Louis gives in and does a little praying, too.

It’s not true, what everyone at school says about him (and possibly church, too. He wouldn’t know, he hasn’t been since the move). Louis _hasn’t_ turned his back on God. He just believes in a God that’s less cruel and judgmental than the one his parents believe in. He believes in a God that wouldn’t turn his back on someone for the gender they choose to love.

Finishing his prayer with a silent _Amen_ , Louis opens his eyes to find Harry watching him with a soft smile.

“Thank you for joining me,” Harry says, all sweet sincerity. It causes a strange lurch in Louis’ heart.

“Sure, Curly.” Louis plays it off with a shrug. “Anytime.”

Harry’s eyes light up at that, his words sounding like he dares not hope that Louis is serious. “You mean it? You’ll pray with me again?”

Louis can’t look in those eyes and not feel the urge to hide how captivated he is by this boy. He’d do anything Harry asked, probably, but he can’t let the other boy know that. Can’t let him bear that weight. Louis directs his answer to the floor. “Yeah, I suppose.”

The hug comes as a surprise, Harry’s arms folding around Louis while he’s not looking. Louis answers in kind, a brief squeeze before he’s pulling out of it. He doesn’t let himself melt into it, doesn’t let it last too long.

Louis clears his throat and stands. “I should go.”

“But, you said—” Harry starts as he follows Louis up from the floor, eyes burning with confusion.

“Yeah, I know but I just remembered that I have to watch my sisters this afternoon,” Louis lies. His parents don’t let him watch his sisters anymore lest he fill their head with his blasphemous theories and teach them his sinful ways. He supposes he’s one of the lucky few, seeing as they haven’t kicked him out of their house. Yet.

“Oh.” Harry sounds disappointed.

Louis can’t handle that so he ruffles Harry’s curls, trying to lighten the mood. “Come to mine tomorrow? We can talk about it then.”

“Okay,” Harry answers readily, smiling at Louis like he can’t get enough of his touch.

Fucking hell. Louis needs to get away from the boy before he does something he can’t take back.


	5. Chapter 5

~ **H** ~

 

Harry doesn’t avoid Louis the next day at school. And because he doesn’t, he sees the boy _everywhere_.

There’s an excited thrumming in his chest every time he catches a glimpse of Louis. He chalks it up to the fact that he gets to hang out with Louis again, that he has something to learn from him. He gets the opportunity to understand what he’s helping Louis fight. Yeah. That’s totally what it is.

He lets himself believe that the rest of the day. At least, until he’s hanging out with Louis in his bedroom, asking questions that he should never have been asking. That’s when everything goes to hell.

 

~ **L** ~

 

“What’s it feel like?” Harry asks, orange grease sliding down his fingers as he holds his pizza aloft, ready to take a bite. Louis is painfully captivated.

“What’s what feel like, Curly? You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” Louis drones, voice coming out flat, colorless, as he sits mesmerized.

“Like, wanting to be with a bloke. What’s that feel like?”

The ignorance breaks Louis out of his trance even as Harry licks at his fingers. “Seriously, Harry? It feels the same as wanting to be with a girl does.”

“Sorry,” Harry mutters looking properly chastised before apparently deciding that, no, he’s _not_ sorry. He puffs himself up like he’s trying to show Louis that he’s not willing to be scolded like a child for simply trying to understand. “But… how do you know? Have you ever wanted to be with a girl?”

Fuck _everything_. Why does Louis find this kid so appealing?

“I thought I did once. Her name was Mary and she was my girlfriend for a grand total of five fun-filled days before she left me for Brett Garvey. I was heartbroken. Though, in hindsight, I can’t say I blame her. Brett was hot for a 13-year-old,” Louis tells the whole story like it’s all some big joke. To him it kind of is. The story of his first and only girlfriend. He started Bible Camp the summer after Mary dumped him.

Harry snorts in amusement, which… wasn’t the reaction Louis was expecting. “Don’t tell me you’re a cradle snatcher, too,” Harry teases.

“Relax, Haz. I was 14 at the time. No need to call the cops on me.”

“Good to know,” Harry says before dropping the crust of his pizza on his plate. He drops to the floor next to Louis’ bed, leaning against the side of the mattress as he draws his knees up to his chest. He seems oddly serious all of a sudden. Maybe nervous. So, Louis joins him on the floor, sitting close in an offer of quiet companionship.

“Louis, when did you decide you were gay?” Harry asks suddenly, not meeting Louis’ eyes like he’s afraid of the judgement he might find there.

Louis rolls his eyes because he has to have said a million times already that it’s not a _decision_ you make, it’s a _revelation_ you have.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that story, Harry,” Louis answers anyway, finding himself fidgeting in place. Now who’s the nervous one?

“Please. I nee— I _want_ to know.”

“Are you sure?” Louis wants Harry to understand the gravity of the situation. That, once he tells this story, there will be things that Harry can’t unlearn.

“I want to know, Lou,” Harry repeats.

Louis sighs, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his elbows on them, fiddling with his fingers as his eyes glaze over with the memory.

“I met a boy. One that I wanted to be around all the time. He was beautiful. Genuine. Kind. And making him laugh was the best feeling in the world. I never wanted to stop. We got really close and I thought about telling him that I liked him. But I always had this paralyzing fear that, if I did, it would ruin everything. And I just… I didn’t want to lose him. I was so confused and he was my best friend so the only person I wanted to talk to about it was him. But I couldn’t. I went back and forth about it a million times.”

“What happened?” Harry asks, soft gaze trained intently on Louis’s face. He looks heartbroken on Louis’ behalf, like he’s halfway hoping for a happy ending even though it’s obvious there couldn’t have been one.

Louis smiles ruefully. “Nothing. I didn’t tell him. He wasn’t… he isn’t like me.”

“Who was it?”

Louis is silent for so long that he’s sure the other boy thinks he’s not going to answer but then Louis looks at Harry, reaches up to fix a stray curl on the boy’s head, and answers honestly. “It was you, Curly.”

Harry freezes at the answer and Louis expects him to pull away, to be disgusted by Louis’ touch. But he doesn’t. He does the opposite, closing the distance between them slowly.  Louis’ not sure if it’s for his benefit or Harry’s own, but then their lips are pressed together in a sweet, gentle kiss.

Louis savors it, wanting to press harder, to dig deeper into whatever this is that’s happening but he doesn’t want to frighten Harry away. So he doesn’t. He lets Harry press their lips together, feels when Harry opens his mouth so that they slot into each other. Louis never thought he’d get to have this. He feels a bit like he’s lost in paradise. And he doesn’t care if he never gets found.

 

~ **H** ~

Harry breaks away from Louis with a gasp, hand raised to his lips. He can’t believe what he’s just done. He squeezes his eyes shut to block out the look of hurt and confusion on Louis’s face and immediately starts a frantic prayer, heedless of the fact that Louis can hear every word.

“Dear God, please forgive me for what I’ve done. I’m supposed to be helping Louis choose the right path but I keep finding myself at a loss. I keep falling further from the path of righteousness and I need your help. Help me choose right, help me be strong enough.”

Harry doesn’t even realize that he’s rocking as he prays until Louis’ arms around him stop his movement.

Louis keeps one arm around Harry while his other hand wipes at Harry’s cheeks. He speaks softly, his quiet murmur almost soothing until Harry allows himself to pay attention to Louis’ words.

“It’s not something you choose, Harry. It’s part of _who you are_ ,” Louis says, holding a trembling Harry still so he can’t run from this. Harry doesn’t deserve the luxury of running.

“That’s not true, Louis,” Harry argues with an unsteady tone. “I chose to ignore it. And it worked. I was fine. Until… until you came back. I can’t stop it with you here. I can’t ignore it, Louis, you make it so difficult.”

“Harry, love, choosing to ignore your feelings doesn’t get rid of them. It just makes you unhappy,” Louis replies softly, trying to pull Harry in, to comfort him, but Harry fights him.

“No!” Harry yells, yanking his arms from Louis’ grip and standing so that he can distance himself. “I can’t be this. I can’t… I can’t be _gay_.”

Harry can feel Louis’ eyes on him as he steps back and slides down the wall in the corner, wrapping his arms around his knees and hiding his face as he breaks down completely.

 

 

~ **L** ~

 

 

Louis can barely hear Harry’s whispered litany of “ _it’s wrong_ ” until he kneels next to the boy, concern in his eyes as he watches Harry cry.

“Harry,” Louis calls out to him and waits for some kind of acknowledgement. He gets none other than a slight rise in volume as Harry keeps telling himself how wrong he is.

“Harry,” Louis tries again, reaching a hand out but letting it fall back to his side when Harry flinches away from him. Instead, Louis scoots so that his back is against the wall and he’s sitting diagonal to Harry. Their toes are almost touching.

“What is it that scares you so much, Curly?” Louis asks, voice so low that he doesn’t know if Harry will hear it over his own whispered chant.

He does. His muted words come to an abrupt stop. He lifts his head, eyes glistening with tears, and he studies Louis like he’s looking for all the answers written in the contours of Louis’ face.

“Is it Hell?” Louis asks gently. He doesn’t want to scare Harry more but Harry’s never going to face this part of himself if they don’t get to the root of why this is so frightening to him. “Do you think God’s going to send you there for liking boys, Harry?”

 

~ **H** ~

 

Harry shakes his head. It’s not the _liking_ that’s the problem. It’s doing what he wants to do with them, what he wants to do with _Louis_.

“Is it your friends? Your family?” Louis continues, and though Harry can tell he’s trying to be careful, he’s hitting on all the sources of Harry’s fears.

Harry drops his head onto his knees. “They’ll hate me. All of them. Everyone will hate me.”

“Like they hate me?” Louis prods.

Harry lifts his head quickly to dispel Louis’ worry, “They don’t hate you.” But when his eyes meet Louis’, there’s something like understanding there.

“What is it you said to me once?” Louis ponders aloud. “’Hate the sin, not the sinner.’ Which, isn’t a perfect ideal. It still breeds hate but it’s better than the alternative.”

“Louis,” Harry starts but Louis just keeps talking.

“Do you realize how many sins we commit on a daily basis, without giving them any thought? I am constantly jealous of Zayn and that _face_ he has. I covet that face. I want to be that pretty,” Louis muses.

“You’re prettier,” Harry mumbles but glances up to see if Louis heard. He’s inordinately happy when it seems he did and isn’t that just another nail in his coffin?

Louis rewards him with a smirk. “Liar. See? There’s sin everywhere. My mum wore trousers to work today. Women aren’t supposed to wear trousers. Is there a special circle of Hell for women in trousers?”

Harry’s not sure if he should be annoyed that Louis is making jokes of his fears or be grateful that Louis can make something that lies so heavy on Harry’s shoulders feel a bit lighter.

“You’re ridiculous,” Harry tells the other boy.

Louis’s lips quirk up at the edges. “I know these things matter to you, Harry. I’m not trying to brush them off as unimportant.”

“I know,” Harry says even though he didn’t, not for sure, until this moment.

“The thing is, if you live in fear, you’ll die without ever _really_ living, Harry. And personally, I think God would rather be _loved_ than feared. And he’d want the same for us. Do you believe that God would punish you for loving someone just because they’re the same gender? Do you really believe that’s a sin?” Louis reaches for Harry’s hand as he speaks and twines their fingers together. Harry doesn’t stop him. For some inexplicable reason, he’s not quite so afraid of what that means anymore.

Harry shakes his head, even if it’s not entirely the truth.

He’s working on it.


	6. Chapter 6

~ **L** ~

 

Louis and Harry have been having their ups and downs since their kiss and Harry’s subsequent freak out in Louis’ room a few weeks ago. They don’t do their “sessions” anymore, but Harry still comes around to do homework or just hang out in the same space, like Louis’ presence is a comfort all on its own.

Louis’ not pushing. He knows Harry isn’t having as easy a time accepting certain facts about himself as Louis did. But, to be honest, Louis’ feeling a bit on top of the world just now. Because sometimes, in the quiet that stretches between them, Harry will reach out and take Louis’ hand in his own. Sometimes it seems absentminded, like Harry does it without thought, like it’s natural. Other times, it’s very clearly deliberate and Louis thinks those are the times when Harry is still trying to convince himself that this is okay.

They haven’t kissed again but Louis is almost certain that he’s seen a few times when Harry’s wanted to. He’s not going to chance it though. He doesn’t want to risk being wrong and sending Harry sprawling back to the starting line where he couldn’t even admit his feelings to himself. This isn’t about Louis or how much he wants the other boy. So, he’ll wait as long as Harry needs. And he’ll do it happily.

At home and Harry’s house, though he doesn’t show up there often anymore, Louis is looked at with hope, like they think Harry’s friendship might change him. Like Harry might talk some sense into him and he’ll give up on his craving for boys. He refuses to feel guilty about the fact that they’ve got everything backwards. That’s not on his shoulders.

At school, his friends have started giving him the side-eye when he doesn’t join them in regaling each other with tales of sordid club hookups. Zayn lazily asked him if he wanted to hook up the other day and looked downright offended when Louis said no. And then he and Niall proceeded to joke about Harry “straightening Louis out” before asking about Louis’ _secret boyfriend_ because he _must_ have one if he doesn’t want to hook up anymore. The title sent a thrill racing through him, but Louis could do nothing but truthfully deny having one. He wants Harry to be his boyfriend but he knows Harry isn’t ready for that yet, so he brushes off his friends’ concern and turns the conversation to other things.  They’re good friends, so they let him. And Louis’ so grateful for both of them.

Louis only hopes Harry is having as easy a time explaining (or not explaining) his friendship with Louis to his own friends.

 

~ **H** ~

 

“You’re doing a good thing Harry,” Liam says, clapping a hand down on Harry’s shoulder, making Harry flinch suddenly.

For a second Liam looks confused, maybe a little hurt, so Harry does his best to appease his only real friend, apart from Louis. “I’m sorry, what? I was distracted,” he lies for Liam’s sake, even though the last thing he wants is to hear those words again.

“I said you’re doing a good thing, trying to help Louis. He doesn’t know how lucky he is to have someone like you on his side, trying to save him,” Liam tells Harry, oblivious to the fact that his words are making something unpleasant twist and turn in Harry’s stomach.

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry says weakly and tunes out his friend again.

Liam isn’t the only person who’s said those words to Harry. Harry’s been praised by his parents, too, and that, more than anything, is what’s got Harry so unsettled. He’s being praised for something he’s not anywhere near sure is the right thing anymore, something he hasn’t actually been doing for quite a while. If anything, Louis is the one helping Harry, and in a way that none of them would have ever expected.

That night, when he goes to Louis’ house, Harry clutches his hand more tightly than ever before.

 

~ **L** ~

 

Louis can tell that something is up with Harry. He’s just not sure whether he should ask or not. There’s obviously something brewing behind the bit lips and furrowed brow that Harry’s sporting as he pretends to do his reading while gripping Louis’ hand like he’s afraid Louis is going to float away should he let go. 

Maybe that’s the problem. Harry’s obviously scared and dealing with this part of himself that he’s only just starting to figure out and Louis is his only source of support thus far. Maybe he’s afraid of losing that.

 “Harry?” Louis prods gently.

Harry jumps at the sudden break in the silence, wide eyes turning on Louis and causing worry to bloom in his chest.

“Are you okay, love?” Louis asks, squeezing Harry’s fingers lightly.

He expects a denial. A lie of “I’m fine”, or something similar, that people typically offer when they’re hurting the most. Louis really should learn to give Harry more credit because the boy astonishes him with his honesty.

“No, Lou,” Harry answers, shaking his head sadly, eyes holding only misery and uncertainty in their depths. “I don’t think I am.”

Louis shuffles closer, wanting to gather Harry in his arms but not entirely certain that won’t make Harry feel worse. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Louis asks, half afraid that the answer will be ‘no’, that he’s helpless to aid Harry even in some small way.

Harry gives him a sad smile. “You already are.” Holding Louis’ gaze, he brings their hands up to his lips and kisses the back of Louis’ knuckles. “You’re here.”

Louis’ heart lurches, as it has a tendency to do lately, at Harry’s words.

“I’ll always be here,” he promises.

Harry’s answering smile holds less sadness than the last one. “I believe you.”

Then, to Louis’ surprise, amazement, and utter delight, Harry leans in ever so slowly and kisses his lips.

It’s one sweet, chaste little thing but, to Louis, it’s like someone’s handed him the world on a silver platter. Especially since, when Harry pulls away, he does it with another grin. No tears in sight.


	7. Chapter 7

~ **H** ~

 

_Harry feels Louis’ hands all over him, wants them everywhere, as Louis’ body presses him down into the mattress. Louis’ naked chest pressed against him feels amazing and Harry finds his hands working at the button on Louis’ trousers. Louis lets him as he trails kisses up his jaw until his mouth is meeting Harry’s, momentarily distracting him from his mission as Louis’ tongue dips into his mouth._

_Harry lets himself be kissed for a minute before he_ needs _to get his hands on Louis._

_Harry goes back to working Louis’ trousers open, sliding his hands into the back, grasping Louis’ bum now that he has more room._

_Louis moans into Harry’s mouth before breaking away to suck lovebites onto his throat._

_“Louis,” Harry says breathlessly as he gropes and thrusts against Louis._

_“Yeah, Curly?” Louis breathes over his marks._

_“Fuck me.”_

 

Harry startles awake, sitting up to catch his breath.

He’s never had a dream that was quite so intense before. He feels an aching between his legs and looks at his lap to find his sheets tented.

Suddenly, he’s flooded with guilt and shame. But he’s still very much aroused.

Harry flops back on his bed and closes his eyes, trying to will away his erection. When that doesn’t work, he considers taking care of it but he knows that if he does, he’ll be thinking of Louis. And Harry hasn’t done that before, getting himself off while thinking of a boy. He’s not sure he can handle it.

Harry pulls back his sheets and starts to head to the bathroom, a cold shower would do the trick, but stops before he takes more than a few steps.

This is _who he is_. He’s a boy that likes boys. He’s not entirely comfortable with it, still feels confused and wrong and ashamed of it most of the time, but he needs to start accepting it if he’s ever going _stop_ being uncomfortable with it. 

Harry sits back down on the edge of his bed. He’s only about half-hard after all this thinking, but he still picks up his cell phone. After another thirty seconds of considering if he _actually_ wants to do this, he punches in Louis’ number and brings the phone to his ear.

 

~ **L** ~

 

Louis had not expected to be hearing from Harry in the middle of the night on a school night. Hadn’t expected for Harry to ask him to come over, voice coming out timid and maybe a bit broken. He _had_ known that, no matter the need, he would jump to fulfill the boy’s every request. Which is what has him climbing in Harry’s bedroom window at well past midnight.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry says, cheeks pink as he holds the window open for Louis to crawl through.

Louis gets his feet firmly planted on the floor before turning to Harry to ask, “Are you alright, Curly?”

Harry nods biting his bottom lip and keeping his eyes on the floor. He looks a little embarrassed and a lot nervous.

“Hey,” Louis reaches out and rubs Harry’s arms like he’s trying to warm the boy up, it’s not really cold in Harry’s room but the boy _is_ shaking. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. We’ll deal with it together, alright?”

If possible, Harry’s cheeks become even rosier at Louis’ promise and his eyes flick up to Louis’ face for a split second before returning to the floor as he walks over to slump down on the edge of his bed.

“That’s, um, sort of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Harry says but it’s so soft that it’s nearly a mumble.

“Okay?” Louis stands by the window awkwardly, watching Harry hunch in on himself over on the bed. He wants to move closer, to offer an embrace or, at the very least, a hand to hold. But Harry has given Louis no indication with his words that he should make that move. Maybe Harry wants to tell Louis to leave him alone but wanted to give him the respect of saying it to his face. Louis doesn’t know, but his stomach drops unpleasantly at the thought. If Harry pushes him away now, he doesn’t want to think about the decisions Harry must have made about himself.

 “I need to… I mean, I want to…” he starts but keeps biting his lips like he’s unsure of whether he wants to let the words loose or keep them trapped.

“Harry,” Louis says, chancing a step closer, before Harry can make another attempt. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”

Harry lapses into silence, staring at Louis but with each passing second, it’s like the fear is draining from his gaze.

“I had a sex dream,” he blurts out.

Louis can’t help the way his jaw drops a bit. _That_ was definitely not what he was expecting. He’s suddenly, very definitely, unsure of what to say. Luckily, Harry steamrolls on.

“I… It was, um, about a boy, and I, well, I woke up hard. At first, I didn’t know what to do about it or if I _should_ do anything about it. And then, I was just going to take a cold shower but then I figured that, you know, if, um, I ever want to be okay with myself, then I need to be okay with, like, the thought of other boys and, maybe, being touched by other boys. And then I thought of you because, like, you’re the person that I trust the most and—”

Louis’ jaw is having a serious problem with gravity as Harry stumbles on without a breath. It’s a little worrying, both Louis’ jaw situation and Harry’s lack of breathing, so Louis gets a hold of himself and snaps his mouth shut—t _ake that, gravity_ —as he takes the remaining steps to sit next to Harry on the bed and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Harry cuts himself off before Louis can do it for him and turns to Louis, appearing both expectant and still a bit embarrassed.

“Breathe, Harry. You don’t have to rush into this. It was just a dream. It doesn’t have to mean anything that you don’t want it to,” Louis tries to assure him, hand scrubbing up and down Harry’s arm, touch gentle.

“But it was of you,” Harry counters, shaking his head a little. “So, I’m pretty sure that it means everything I want it to, but just wouldn’t admit to myself.”

And _that_ … well, let’s just say that now _Louis_ is the one trying to catch his breath.


	8. Chapter 8

~ **H** ~

 

Louis looks stunned at Harry’s confession and Harry’s afraid that maybe he’s gone too far. He knows that Louis cares about him but maybe he doesn’t want _that_ with Harry.

“You… are you saying that you want me to _touch_ you, Harry?” Louis asks and Harry can tell that Louis’ trying to be delicate with him. Despite the way he looks now with his rough, dark, pierced exterior, Louis has only ever been gentle with Harry. Harry trusts him so much. “Intimately?”

“Yeah, I— I think so. I mean, will you, maybe, kiss me first? Like, a _real_ kiss?” Harry is certain that his lack of experience will be obvious but he’s just as certain that Louis won’t care should he choose to agree to Harry’s proposition.

Louis’ eyelashes flutter at Harry’s question, like he’s savoring Harry’s words. Like Harry’s just offered him the Holy Grail and he can’t believe his luck.

“I will give you all the kisses you’d like, love,” Louis answers, hand slipping up to the nape of Harry’s neck and lightly tugging him closer. Harry goes easily, ready to be kissed. Ready, for the moment, to give in to this and accept that Louis is what he wants, what he’s always wanted, despite his gender.

Louis’ lips are soft and damp, when they meet Harry’s. Harry’s comfortable with this, the mere press of their lips. They’ve done it twice now and it’s been so nice both times but it’s not what Harry has asked for, and he’s a little afraid that if they don’t move on, he’ll talk himself out of everything. So, _he_ takes the next step instead of waiting for Louis to do it. He opens his mouth and teases Louis’ lips with his tongue, feels a sense of accomplishment when Louis opens up to him, their tongues finally brushing and Louis’ grip on that back of his neck tightening ever so slightly.

Louis kisses him like Harry’s feeding him his next breath in a world without oxygen, like he _needs_ it. Harry loves it all, the kisses, the way Louis’ fingertips press into the hair at his nape, the little sounds of approval that Louis makes every time Harry surprises him by taking it just a tiny bit further.

Harry’s arms wrap around Louis’ neck and he tentatively lies back, pulling Louis down to cover him, pressing him into the bed just like in his dream.

“Harry,” Louis speaks between kisses.

“What?” Harry follows suit.

To his disappointment, Louis pulls away from his lips completely to address him. “We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to. Not tonight. Just this is perfect.”

Harry doesn’t doubt Louis’ sincerity as he ducks down to press his lips to Harry’s once again. But Harry _wants_ and he hasn’t let himself want anything in such a long time, always trying to be a good boy, always afraid of wanting too much. Of wanting _wrong_.

“ _Please_ ,” Harry whispers against Louis’ lips. “Touch me. I want you to, I mean, if you want.”

 

~ **L** ~

 

Louis loses his breath when Harry thrusts up with his pelvis, they’re both so hard.

“Harry,” Louis groans, he wants to. He _really_ wants to, but he’s not sure if he should.

“Please,” Harry begs as he moves his hands down Louis’ back, only to push up the back of Louis’ shirt and get his hands on Louis’ bare flesh.

And well, Louis always knew he couldn’t deny Harry anything, so he slides a hand down over Harry’s shirt, purposely brushing over his nipple. “Just this for now.”

Harry keens at the brief touch so Louis does it again. It must feel good because Harry pulls his hands from Louis’ lower back to reach behind him and drag his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. He breathing’s a bit heavily and he’s staring up at Louis when he gets it off. He looks stunned by his own actions and a little afraid, so Louis sits up, straddling Harry’s lap, and takes his own shirt off, leveling the playing field.

 

~ **H** ~

 

Harry finds himself staring at Louis’ bare chest. Well, it’s not technically bare, because Louis is _covered_ in tattoos.

Harry studies one of them, words twisted with fancy lettering just under Louis’ collarbones. He reaches out a hand to trace his fingers over each letter, _IT IS WHAT IT IS._

Louis sits still on Harry’s hips and lets Harry touch, just watching as he runs his fingers over the ink.

“I thought you didn’t like tattoos,” Harry says eventually, breaking the silence but never taking his eyes or fingers off Louis’ skin.

“And _I_ thought I’d lose you when you found out about me,” Louis answers quietly, shrugging a shoulder carelessly as he smirks down at Harry. “Looks like we were both mistaken.”

“Happily,” Harry mutters, but he’s not quiet enough to keep Louis from looking at him in confusion. So he elaborates, pressing his fingers into the tattoos more firmly. “Happily mistaken.”

Louis displays his smirk for a few seconds longer before it melts into a sweet smile as his features soften. “Very happily,” he agrees.

Harry flushes anew under the weight of Louis’ adoration. It’s a weight he bears gladly, in spite of everything that he’s been taught is immoral about it. If it’s wrong, it’s a wrong that feels more right than anything he’s ever experienced before. He just wishes he still felt right in the moments in between, the times when Louis isn’t around to help him push down his fears.

He’s about to request more kisses when Louis ducks down and sucks Harry’s nipple into his mouth, repeatedly running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, while Harry gasps and writhes beneath him. Louis gives the other nipple the same treatment, pulling back when Harry’s hands squeeze his hips hard enough to bruise as he drives their clothed erections together.

“Louis,” Harry exhales as his whole body lights up with electricity, toes curling as he comes in his pants.

“I’m here, love,” Louis says, lying down half on top of him, covering him, leaving Harry feeling protected under the comforting weight as Louis kisses him again. Harry can only lazily reciprocate as he quakes with the aftermath of his orgasm.

Louis pulls back to stare down at Harry with what can only be described as awe. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, as he maneuvers himself into a new position, tugging Harry onto his side and back into his arms. Harry’s back rests against Louis’ chest and Harry relishes the feeling of being taken care of as Louis spoons him.

“Will you stay?” Harry manages to murmur as his eyelids droop with a sudden fatigue.

“For a little while,” Louis agrees.

So they lay there, drifting between awake and asleep, and Harry idly thinks they’re probably both waiting for him to crack again, too burdened by what he is to let his happiness last.

Harry wakes with the sun to find himself alone. There’s a note on his bedside table though that brings a, slightly embarrassed, smile to his face.

_I would have woken you, but you looked so lovely mumbling my name in your sleep. I can’t wait for you to tell me what you were dreaming about this time. Until later…_

Harry can feel his cheeks straining at how wide his smile is as he clutches Louis’ note to his chest.

He doesn’t realized until much later that the crash he was expecting never comes.


	9. Chapter 9

~ **L** ~

 

In the weeks to follow, Harry talks Louis into a few new things (at least, new for Harry) in the privacy of Louis’ bedroom when Louis’ family goes out without him. There’s still hand holding and sweet kisses. There’s still nipple play, Harry’s apparently quite fond of that one. But _now_ , Louis’ touched Harry’s dick. And Harry’s touched Louis’ dick. And Louis is pretty sure that Harry is slowly but surely working up the nerve to ask Louis to blow him.

They haven’t become sex fiends or anything. They don’t have to constantly be touching each other. Well, not sexually anyway. And when they do start something new and intimate, Louis never lets them rush it. It’s never the quick and dirty route that Louis’ gone down with boys in the past. Louis makes sure that it’s never something that Harry will regret. Even if something should happen to break the two of them apart, Harry should always be able to look back on all of these firsts with Louis as fond memories. Louis desperately wants to get this right with Harry. Which is why Louis so nervous right now.

Harry’s cuddled next to him on his bed, Louis’ television playing one of the Marvel superhero films that Louis has been paying absolutely no attention to. Harry’s hand is warm, their fingers twined together, and he’s afraid that he’s going to gross Harry out with how clammy his palm is getting.

“Louis, are you alright?” Harry asks finally, lifting the remote to turn off the TV before throwing it back down on the bed.

Apparently, Louis’ nerves are more evident than even he realized.

“Actually,” Louis says, instead of lying. They’ve always tried their best to be honest with each other, no sense in stopping now. “I wanted to ask you something.”

At Louis’ words, Harry sits up a little straighter and Louis suspects that Harry thinks he’s going to suggest something sexual that they haven’t tried yet. Harry is always the one who brings up those things because Louis never wants Harry to feel pressured into doing something he doesn’t want.

This is something a little different.

“What is it, Lou?” Harry prods Louis to go on.

“Okay,” Louis says to himself, squaring his shoulders. One little question shouldn’t be this scary, but, well, a lot is riding on this. “First of all, please, if you aren’t comfortable with this, just tell me, okay? I won’t take it personally, if you don’t think you can do it.”

Harry watches Louis for a minute, expression calm and expectant until it’s clear that Louis’ actually waiting for Harry to confirm that he won’t go along with anything he doesn’t want.

“Okay,” Harry says with a little roll of his eyes, lips on the verge of a smile, as they usually are when he realizes that Louis’ doing something to try and protect him. It’s Louis’ favorite of Harry’s almost-smiles.

“Okay,” Louis repeats. “So, how do you feel about the term ‘boyfriend’?”

 

~ **H** ~

 

Harry doesn’t know what to say. So, he stares. Like, seriously, he’s not sure he’s blinking.

He’d thought Louis was going to ask him if they could do some new sexual thing. He’d been kind of proud at the thought that Louis might trust him to know what he was and wasn’t ready for. But this is different. Sex is something that is usually private. Putting a label on a relationship is something you do so that you can _tell people_. This, Harry doesn’t think he’s ready for.

“You’re not ready,” Louis surmises when Harry doesn’t speak. “That’s okay. That’s fine. I won’t push you. It’s fine, love.”

While it’s true, Harry isn’t quite ready, he _wants_ to be ready. He _wants_ to give Louis that label and be able to wear it proudly in return. And even though Louis said he wouldn’t take it personally if Harry couldn’t do it, it’s pretty obvious by the way he’s aggressively assuring Harry that it’s okay, that it isn’t actually all that okay.

“Louis,” Harry opens his mouth to explain but Louis speaks over him, like maybe he’s afraid to hear what Harry wants to say so he’s not going to let him say anything.

“We’re fine, Harry. We’re perfect. Don’t worry,” Louis says but his brow is furrowed and Harry is pretty sure that he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince Harry.

“I’m not—” Harry tries again, putting a hand on Louis’ arm in reassurance. Apparently, Louis isn’t really reading his signals very well just now.

“Let’s put the movie back on, okay?” Louis interrupts reaching for the remote but Harry grabs it first.

“Louis.”

“Harry, _please_ don’t,” Louis pleads, voice brittle, eyes looking anywhere but at him, and Harry can’t help but wonder what Louis thinks he’s going to say that would make him sound so utterly broken.

“Hey,” Harry speaks softly, reaching his free hand to tilt Louis’ chin so that he has to meet his gaze. “Hear me out, okay?”

Louis just nods silently and swallows loudly.

“I was _going to say_ that I’m not worried,” Harry says gently, leaning in and kissing Louis softly.

Louis tries to latch on, chases after his lips when he pulls away but Harry won’t let him. He’s not said his piece yet. He moves his hand from Louis’ chin to cradle his cheek.

“I’m not worried because I _want_ to be your boyfriend, Louis. And I want you to be mine.”

“Oh,” Louis’ relief is evident and Harry smirks at him. “But you didn’t—”

Harry interrupts this time, and feels quite justified in doing so. “I’m _not_ ready to tell people about us, or me anyway, but I definitely want to be able call you mine and know that you want it too.”

“So, _secret_ boyfriends?” Louis suggests, a bit sheepishly.

“Are you okay with that?” Harry checks, feeling something like hope flower in his chest.

“I think I can handle that,” Louis answers pulling Harry into him and capturing his lips in that kiss he’d been seeking before. Harry happily gives in this time.


	10. Chapter 10

~ **L** ~

 

Louis _loves_ being Harry’s boyfriend almost as much as he loves Harry. Between the late night phone calls talking about nothing at all and the nights spent sitting with each other just doing schoolwork, it doesn’t sound like it would be all that exciting. But Louis cherishes every minute spent with Harry in his arms, or holding his hand, or just having his voice in his ear until one or both of them drift off to sleep.

Everything isn’t perfect. Harry still has moments of uncertainty, where he questions what they’re doing, and what God must think of them. There are still things that he’s not ready to do, yet. Like, he’s okay with Louis going down on him but he’s not quite ready for a cock in his own mouth yet. And Louis still worries that he’s unwittingly pressuring Harry into things he doesn’t want sometimes, no matter how much Harry swears to him that isn’t the case.

So, this new adventure is something that they are entering into very cautiously.

“Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” Louis tries to joke as they stand together outside of Louis’ shower. Harry is wrapped in a towel and Louis is standing there completely naked as the water warms under his fingers.

They wouldn’t even be trying this if Louis’ family hadn’t gone away for the weekend to visit the grandparents that no longer want anything to do with him. Apparently, _they_ didn’t get the ‘don’t hate the sinner’ memo.

“Louis, I’m not sure that you should be joking about God at a time like this,” Harry scolds, bringing Louis out of his, somewhat painful, thoughts.

Louis sighs. “It’s a shower, Harry. It’s not like I’m going to fuck you against the wall or anything.”

Harry’s cheeks get that soft shade of pink to them that means he’s a little embarrassed, or a lot turned on. Louis guesses it’s the latter when he hears Harry mumble, “We do have plans for _after_ , though.”

Just to be sure, Louis decides it’s time for protective boyfriend mode.

“If you want to change your mind, you can,” Louis insists, caressing Harry’s right arm with his one still-dry hand.

Harry gives him that almost-smile that he loves and shakes his head lightly. “I can’t make any promises. I don’t know how I’ll feel when we start, but I want to try.”

“Water’s ready,” Louis tells him with grin that he’s certain would give away his feelings for this boy to anyone who saw it. The _blind_ could probably see it.

Louis doesn’t linger, stepping into the shower and busying himself with getting shampoo into his hands in the hopes that Harry will feel more at ease without Louis’ eyes on him.

He hears Harry take a deep breath and drop his towel, before he’s following Louis into the shower.

Louis washes his hair with his eyes closed, and keeps his body half-turned from Harry for the first few minutes until Harry grabs both of his biceps, stopping him from going around him to get at the soap.

“You _can_ look at me, Louis. I promise I won’t have a breakdown,” Harry teases, squeezing the arms in his grip so that Louis knows that he’s also pretty serious. Look how far they’ve come. Louis is so proud.

Louis eyes Harry’s face, seeing that near-grin again and letting out a breath that he didn’t realize that he’d been holding in. “Sorry. I was trying _not_ to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’ve never felt more comfortable in my life, than I do when I’m with you,” Harry tells him and Louis suspects that the smile being directed at him is the same one that he was wearing earlier, a beacon of his affection.

Louis steps closer and runs his eyes over Harry’s naked body. He reaches out to touch but stops just before his fingertips can make contact with Harry’s rounded hips. “Can I?”

Harry nods, giving him the look he gets when he’s a little overwhelmed but also excited about what they’re doing. Louis’s fairly certain that he’s reflecting the same look back at him.

Louis’ fingers brush against the little love handles on Harry’s sides, and he sees Harry’s eyes close in what he hopes is desire. He continues running his fingers down Harry’s flesh until he’s touching the tops of Harry’s thighs and then he runs them lightly back up again, tracing them over Harry’s chest and shoulders before running them up and then down Harry’s throat ever so lightly. He is so beautiful. Louis has seen bits of him naked but he’s never seen him stripped down like this, all of him on display, a feast for Louis’ eyes and fingers.

“Lou,” Harry’s voice comes out sounding strained and his eyes are darker than usual when he opens them, his usual emerald green more like a shady forest.

Harry’s hands catch Louis’ wrists and it’s only then that he realizes that he has become enthralled at the sight of his fingers toying with Harry’s nipples.

“I’m not going to last, if you keep that up,” Harry warns and Louis’ eyes trail down to Harry’s cock, standing at attention. Louis wants to put his mouth on it. Wants to put his mouth all over Harry. But he knows that he needs to have patience. They’ll get to what he can do with his mouth later.

For now, he grabs the soap and washes Harry. He’s thorough and reverent with his touches, trying his best to ignore each catch of Harry’s breath.

Harry asks to wash him next and Louis lets him, expecting Harry’s touch to be hesitant but he’s sure and quick with each swipe of his soapy hands. Louis would think it was almost clinical but then he catches sight of Harry’s stare lingering at the places his hands move away from the fastest and realizes that Harry _wants_ to touch him but isn’t allowing himself because Harry is _impatient to get out_. He wants out of the shower and into Louis’ bed.

And, well, Louis is disinclined to keep his boyfriend waiting.

 

~ **H** ~

 

Harry finds himself both aroused by and incredibly self-conscious of the position he’s in.

Louis has asked him to get on the bed on his elbows and knees, his head laying on his arms so his bum is presented to Louis.

He’s far more nervous than he expected but Louis’ hands rubbing smoothly, enticingly up his thighs and over his arse cheeks keep that squirmy uncomfortable feeling in his stomach from expanding, getting to his chest, or worse, his head, and telling him to stop this.

“So beautiful, baby,” Louis says squeezing Harry’s cheeks in his hands, pulling them apart lightly, as he kisses the bottom of Harry’s spine. “Gonna make you feel so nice, I promise.”

Harry squirms a bit, pressing back into Louis’ hands.

He surges away again, startled when he feels Louis’ warm breath over his exposed hole.

“It’s alright, love. Gonna take care of you,” Louis says, without moving away so that each word spoken sends another breath to taunt him.

Louis tongue on Harry is like a revelation. _This_ is what he wants for the rest of his life.

Louis laps at his hole and Harry pushes back into it, seeking out more. Louis must realize what Harry wants because the next second there’s a pressure against him, pressing lightly but not entering him. “Oh _God, yes_.”

Louis chuckles against him before pulling away, making Harry whine with displeasure until he uses a finger to press circles against Harry’s hole while his tongue is otherwise occupied with speaking. “You gonna pray for us, love?”

“God,” Harry repeats when Louis licks at him again.

“I like it when you pray,” Louis says into his arse before finally pushing his tongue past the ring of muscle and into Harry.

So, Harry prays while Louis kisses him in the most intimate of places, fucking Harry with his tongue while Harry sends out a message to the heavens.

He doesn’t pray for their souls like Louis probably expects, like any one of his family or the kids from school would declare that he needs to. He prays in _thanks_. Because God brought Louis to him, this brilliant, lovely, _incredible_ boy that has done nothing but treasure him for being exactly who he is. And while the rest of the world can call them an abomination for wanting to be together, the one truth that Harry holds firm to is that God makes no mistakes.

When he comes, there are stars in his eyes and tears on his cheeks.

When Louis comes, there’s a Harry in his arms and love on his lips.

When they wake up wrapped in each other a little while later, the big bad world doesn’t seem so big or bad anymore. At least, not to Harry.


	11. Chapter 11

~ **L** ~

 

Harry starts coming out of his shell in increments when they aren’t behind closed doors.

It starts with Harry asking to formally meet Louis’ friends, not as his boyfriend but Louis will take it. Harry knows who Niall and Zayn are, but he’s never really spoken to either of them, so Louis makes the introductions before school one day. Harry is nice and polite, as usual, and, once Niall and Zayn stop being suspicious of his motives, they seem to like him alright.

Then, Harry introduces Louis to his friend Liam but Liam doesn’t seem to like him much. Louis doesn’t really see a lasting friendship growing there, Liam is too much of a stick in the mud. Maybe if he’d loosen up a bit, but Louis isn’t holding his breath for that.

Harry asks Louis to walk him to his classes sometimes now, but it’s getting increasingly difficult for Louis to keep his urges to reach for Harry’s hand in check. He’s stupidly in love with his boy and he sort of wants to tell everyone. He won’t though. Not until Harry’s ready, and Louis is perfectly aware that it might be a long wait. He can tell that Harry is trying though, and that’s all Louis can ask really.

Harry hangs out with Louis, Zayn, and Niall before school and sometimes during lunch. Liam never joins them and Harry seems sad about that but he’s not upset enough to stop coming altogether.

It’s a few weeks after Harry starts hanging out with them that Louis notices something is weird.

He’s waiting at Harry’s locker for him to get out of his first class when he sees his boyfriend heading toward him.

Harry’s smiling at him but then another boy pats Harry on his shoulder, stealing his attention for a moment. _Uh, thanks_ , Louis thinks he reads on his lips as Harry turns away from the boy with a confused expression. Before he can make it to Louis, he’s stopped again. This time by a girl that’s twirling her hair around her finger and smiling at him bashfully.

Louis feels a ridiculous surge of jealousy but brushes it off as Harry breaks away from the girl and finally makes it to his locker.

“What was that about?” Louis asks, trying to keep his tone from sounding accusing as he watches Harry spin the dial on his locker.

“I have no idea,” Harry says, still managing to look adorably confused. “They both thanked me and said I was doing something great.”

“Huh,” Louis scoffs. “The girl was flirting with you.”

Harry smirks at him as he opens his locker door and Louis is sure that he’s not hiding his jealousy well. “I know.”

“Minx,” Louis teases but it just makes Harry’s smirk grow.

“You like it,” Harry states confidently, getting the book he needs for his next class before closing the locker.

Together, they walk toward Harry’s next class, and Louis knows that he can’t take Harry’s hand but he chances throwing his arm over Harry’s shoulder.

Harry lets him and Louis rejoices internally.

At lunch is when the shit hits the proverbial fan. Harry catches up to Louis on his way out to meet Niall and Zayn in their usual spot at the back wall. But the minute Niall sees Harry, he lunges for him, fists swinging. Louis only barely catches Niall in time to keep those fists from connecting.

“What the fuck?” Louis asks pushing Niall back toward Zayn, who’s glaring but not making a move toward Harry.

“You little shit. You don’t have to pretend to be our friend anymore,” Niall yells at Harry. “We don’t need your services here, fucking homophobic cunt.”

Louis looks from Niall to Harry.

Harry looks extremely confused and Niall looks ready for a brawl.

“What in the world are you _talking_ about?” Harry asks before Louis can ask in a few more colorful terms.

“We’ve heard the stories going around school. About how you decided to try and convert us, you know, since you did such a bang up job turning Louis straight,” Zayn pipes in.

Louis turns to Harry and sees in his matching wide-eyed stare that they’ve both just realized why strange people were thanking Harry in the hallways earlier. Louis is the first to recover, turning back to his friends to argue on Harry’s behalf.

“Guys, I swear, Harry’s not trying to convert you. And I am, in fact, 100% _not_ straight. Still,” Louis swears, even gives them the scout honor salute or whatever. He might have done it wrong. He’s not a scout.

“Let’s hear it from him then,” Niall says, arms crossed defensively.

“I’m not trying to convert you,” Harry tells him with a roll of his eyes.

“How do we know that?” Zayn asks, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.

“Is _my_ word not enough?” Louis questions his friends. He’s quite offended to be honest.

“Mate, you’ve got a soft spot for this kid,” Zayn states, sounding reasonable even to Louis who _knows_ the real reason Harry is here. “How do we know he’s not playing you?”

Reason or not, Louis won’t let them tear Harry down. He opens his mouth to defend his boy again but Harry’s hand on his shoulder stops him. He turns to see what Harry wants and finds his cheeks pink but his face absolutely calm when he says, “Tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Niall scowls but Louis ignores him.

“What? Harry, no,” Louis shakes his head. This isn’t how it’s supposed to work.

“It’s okay, Lou,” Harry says, giving Louis a smile. He really does seem to be okay with this. “I’m sick of being praised for something that’s been a lie practically from the start.”

Louis can understand that but still, Harry shouldn’t have to do this.

 Harry smiles again and gives a nonchalant shrug, trying to reassure Louis that he’s certain. “And I’ve got to start somewhere right?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Niall scowls harder, if that’s possible.

“Are you sure?” Louis checks one last time. He may want to tell the world that Harry is his, but he wants to do it on Harry’s terms.

Harry nods and moves to stand beside him, taking Louis’ hand and watching with a sweet smile when Louis brings it to his lips to kiss his knuckles.

Then, Louis turns to his friends and tells them.

“Those rumors that you’ve heard about Harry are just rumors. He’s not trying to convert _anyone_. And I know this beyond any doubt… because Harry’s my boyfriend.”

 

~ **H** ~

 

To say that Niall is shocked would be an understatement. He sputters and then trips over himself to apologize.

“Sorry, mate. I get a bit hot-headed when people fuck with me mates,” he says. “Shit, I almost hit you. Sorry.”

Harry forgives him because he understands being fiercely protective of someone, now more than ever.

“I’m really sorry, Harry,” Zayn offers next. “We shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. We know all too well how lies spread at this school. We should have just asked you. No one should be forced into coming out like that.”

“I’m not saying that I’m happy about the circumstances,” Harry tells him. “But I kind of wanted to tell someone. Someone I could _trust_.”

“Your secret’s safe with us, Haz,” Zayn promises and Niall nods along, agreeing.

Maybe it’s silly but Harry suddenly feels just a little bit free standing at the back wall of his school surrounded by people who know him, _really_ know him now, so that he has one place where he doesn’t have to lie anymore.

Only, once Harry’s told someone, he kind of can’t stop thinking in _what if_ s.

_What if_ he told Liam? _What if_ he told his parents? _What if_ they didn’t love him anymore? _What if_ they did?

He talks to Louis about it and Louis says that he’ll support whatever decision Harry makes. They talk a lot before Harry makes a decision. They talk about everything, what will happen if Harry’s parents accept him, what he and Louis will do if they don’t. Zayn’s emancipated and lives on his own, so he offers Harry a place to stay should he need it.

Now, there’s just the actual telling to do.

Harry stands outside his house, Louis at his side, looking at the front door and trying to talk himself into walking up to it.

“You don’t have to be afraid, Harry. I won’t leave your side,” Louis promises. “And we have a plan, right? We can stay with Zayn for a while if we have to. You won’t have to do any of this alone.”

Harry gives his boyfriend a small, grateful smile but he’s afraid that his nerves ruin it. He’s so scared right now.

Louis reaches out and pulls Harry’s head down to rest in the crook of his neck, wrapping the boy up in his arms and holding him tight, fingers lost in Harry’s curls.

“I’ve got you,” Louis says, one last time.

And it’s strange, Harry thinks, that the boy who he used to imagine made him weak in so many ways is the one giving him strength now. Louis makes him strong. The whole world can think it’s wrong but it doesn’t feel that way and Harry no longer believes that God would punish him for finding his heaven right here on Earth.

He lifts his head from Louis’ shoulder, feels the boy curling his fingers around Harry’s, and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves.

He can do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my last minute betas who helped sort me out. 
> 
> Please let me know what you did or didn't like. Concrit is always welcome.<3


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